==== February 7th, 2014
==== Erikkhan, Borunick (NPC - Kyara, handler), Kyara
==== Erikkhan gets two callers within a short span, though the two visits are for very different reasons.

Erikkhan and Realilina's Quarters
This part of the domain serves as an office and studio - Journeyman Harper Erikkhan's, to be precise. To the left is a wall with deep shelves carved into it. These shelves are stocked tightly but neatly with various types of art supplies, from small jars of pigment to large canvases. Several bare wooden frames meant for stretching canvas lean against the only blank part of the wall. The right wall is lined with a few easels - two of which have covered canvases on them - and Erikkhan's desk, which is orderly and has a stack of hides for incoming and outgoing commissions. The back wall has two doors, and what empty space there is left is occupied by samples of Erikk's work.

Erikkhan sits behind an easel, putting some last touches on the preliminary sketch for a portrait - part of a project he's submitting. He sweeps the charcoal stick across the canvas in a wide arc, completing the sweeping line of a skirt. He sits engrossed in his work, a gold and a bronze observing from his shoulder.

Three quick raps come at the door, followed by a slightly timid, "Hello? Journeyman Harper, sir?" The unseen bearer of the low tenor voice doesn't sound intimidated, per se - just a bit like a fish out of water.

Erikkhan lifts his eyes to the sound, a bit unfocused for a moment. Oh, right, the door. Erikk unfolds his length off the stool and glides to the door of his quarters. He opens the door with a smile at the man standing in front of him. "How can I help you?" He asks, stepping out of the way and ushering the man into his studio.

Dipping his head in gratitude, the lanky merchant enters, raw-boned and calloused hands gripping a floppy, broad-brimmed hat in a slightly wringing fashion. Middle-aged and made swarthy by the sun, he sports a painfully thin beak of a nose and a rather impressive shock of well-oiled black hair. Of middling height, he glances upward at Erikkhan with a quick, brown-eyed glance and gives yet another nod. "The name's Borunick, sir. I'm a blade merchant from the Bazaar. The Weyrsecond said I was to come see you, describe a few unsavory sorts that tried to steal from me and attacked him and the lady greenrider that was with him yesterday." He grimaces, not at all keen on having to recount the incident.

Erikkhan listens carefully to the man's words, nodding along where appropriate. "I think I can help you there, Borunick. Just…let me grab a few things." Erikk jaunts off to grab a few precious sheets of paper and his best charcoal sticks. He guides the man over to the desk and bids him sit as he lays his things down. "Would you like a whiskey or some wine?" He asks, clearly concerned for Borunick.

The thin min relaxes his grip on the hat as he takes in Erikkhan's manner, glad to sense that he's not imposing. "Oh, I'd be much obliged for it," he replies to the Harper. "If you've whiskey, I'd trouble you for that, if you will." His gaze darts admiringly around the room, coming to rest on different works here and there. "Pardon my twitchiness. 's not that I'm not used dealing with the occasional lift; it's the Bazaar after all. Just never had anything get violent in front o' me like that. Not against riders, anyhow. Which is as foolhardy as you can get, if you ask me."

Erikkhan nods and grabs the man a double of whiskey, handing it deftly to him. "It's alright. Feel free to get comfortable before you start your tale." Erikkhan sits behind the desk and retrieves his supplies. "I’m ready when you are."

Slipping onto an empty stool near the desk, Borunick takes a healthy swig of the dark liquid, face reddening slightly as it burns down his throat, and gives a satisfied grunt before meeting Erikkhan's eyes. "First one was a man - stocky fella, bald, maybe a few fingers shorter than me. Not stocky like he'd been too well fed, mind - just thickset, like some Miners an' Smiths are. Wide nose, smallish eyes that were…green? Maybe brown. Could've been both, I suspect. Broad chin, thin lips. That's about all I can remember, for that one." He takes another sip, then flicks his eyes down to the paper, watching the Harper work for a moment.

Erikkhan listens for a second before his fingers are flying over the paper, adjusting to Borunick's description. His eyebrows furrow in concentration as he fills in the finer details. He works diligently for a few moments and then he blows the dust away and holds up a sketch. "Somewhat like this? Do I need to change anything?"

The knife merchant blinks at the sketch held up for him, his eyebrows rising in admiration. "Aye, that's about right! Maybe a bit bigger in the ears, and thicker in the brows, but otherwise that's a right good accounting of 'im. Now the woman- Ah, I'll…wait 'til you've done what you need to there." Concealing a bit of embarrassment over his rush behind another sip from his whiskey, Borunick waits for Erikkhan to make those adjustments to the sketch of the man. The following silence, however, is broken by another rap at the door - a firm succession of four, followed by the high alto of a woman's voice querying Erikkhan's name.

Erikkhan makes the adjustments he needs to the sketch and is just getting to a fresh sheet of paper when the next set of knocks interrupts his inner sanctum. "Excuse me a moment…" Erikk says and bounds for the door. Opening it, he looks around for a visage, the source of all the knocking. "How can I help you?" He asks before he locks on anyone.

Kyara isn't obvious for a moment, having stepped to the side to return an errant ball to a pair of playing children not far away. Chuckling, she turns back to smile up at Erikk, though the knot and stitched split in the brow above her left eye look rather at odds with the expression. "Hello, Erikkhan," she greets, straightening the light leather jacket shifted askew from earlier motions. "Do you have a moment? I hope I'm not interrupting anything; I can come back later, if I need to." Within, Borunick gets up, brow furrowing in curiosity at the sound of the woman's voice as he attempts to peer past the threshold.

Erikkhan shakes his head. "Not at all. Just finishing up some business here. it shouldn't take long. Please. Come in." He waves Kyara in and returns to his place at the desk. He waves Kyara towards refreshments and turns his attention back to Borunick. "And the woman?" He asks, putting them back on topic.

"Thank you," Kyara answers, following inside after Erikkhan and raising a brow - the one she can raise - at the sight of the knife merchant. The thin man seems just as surprised to see her. "Ah, lady greenrider!" he exclaims. "Good to see you about. I was just telling the Journeyman Harper here all about them that did that to you just yesterday," he explains, gesturing at his own brow in lieu of hers. "Good man," Kyara replies with a grin, extending her hand. "A man who helps me to my feet in the aftermath, no less, and I don't even know his name." At which point Borunick supplies it to her, bows over her hand, and turns his attention back to Erikkhan as Kyara goes about helping herself to a bit of wine before finding a seat off to the side. "Ah, the woman. A bit taller than me, almost stick-thin, but wiry-like. Light brown hair, kept tied up in a sort of loose bun. Grey eyes, thin through the face with a small nose and a wide mouth." In the background, Kyara listens, nodding subtly as she recalls much the same.

Once more Erikkhan's swift hand is flying over the paper, making nonsense lines into something recognizable. "Do you remember anything else? Any telling marks? Freckles? Scars? What shape were her eyes?" He directs his questions in form of what he needs to put on paper.

Borunick runs fingers through his hair, his forehead scrunching in thought. "Errrr…some light freckles, yes. No scars. Fairly round eyes; looked sort o' like she was constantly on the watch for somethin'." Which she more or less was at the time. The thin man glances over his shoulder at Kyara, who gives a nod for his recollection with a small smile. "That's what I remember, too," she affirms, carefully standing and drawing close enough to peer at Erikk's work. "You've a sharp memory, Borunick. You might have made a good Harper." The blade merchant flushes somewhat and modestly dismisses the notion, thanking the greenrider and fixing his eyes on the sketching.

Erikkhan makes the needed adjustments to the sketch and cleans up a few lines before blowing off the excess dust and presenting the sketch to the two onlookers. "I think I'd have to agree with you there Kyara; the man does have a sharp inner eye for attention to detail. Does this look about right?" He asks.

Scratching his chin, Borunick gives another nod, a smirk deepening the crows-feet etched at the corners of his eyes. "Aye, that's it. You've a true hand, Harper. There was a third, but I certainly didn't get a good look at 'im, hooded as he was." He makes a questioning gesture toward Kyara, who gives a small shake of her head, mindful of the sensation it causes. "I didn't see his face, though it was a man, that's for sure. A tall one, at that. Not enough for you to do a sketch from, I'm afraid," she tells Erikkhan, looking a bit sour at the fact. Borunick gives his own headshake, eyes flicking back down to the sketches. "Well, hopefully these'll help the Weyrsecond. Is there anything else you need from me, m'lord Harper?" he questions, finishing off his whiskey and taking his hat in hand once more.

Erikkhan shakes his head and summons a firelizard to deliver the sketches. "That should do, Borunick. Go have yourself a few more drinks and relax, man. You need the rest." After seeing the man out, Erikk turns his full attention to his greenrider friend. "Are you ok?" he asks, sounding much more concerned than he had when Borunick had been present. "Do you need some numbweed? There's plenty of wine. Please, help yourself. Is there anything I can do?"

Kyara commends the knife merchant for his assistance as he leaves, the smile and the handshake she gives him sincere before she stands aside and watches Erikkhan show him the rest of the way out. "Oh, I think you just did plenty," the greenrider tells the tall Harper with a smile, absently bringing up a hand to lightly brush fingers above her injury. "I spent the night in the infirmary, and I had some numbweed put on not too long ago. Plus I just had a few drinks with Sienna, so I'd better make this all the wine I get for now." It certainly helps that there were snacks involved, too. "How are you, Erikk? How's Realilina?" she asks, resuming her seat with a bit of a sigh.

Erikkhan almost reaches out to touch her face, but checks himself. Things like that get him into trouble. So he just smiles back at her, a smile that widens to one of pure happiness as Kyara mentions Erikk's mate. "Pregnant." He responds happily. "And we're getting handfasted." As the tall Harper sits it's obviously he can barely contain his excitement at the prospect.

At the mention of Realilina being with child, Kyara grins widely, eyes dancing as the news is furthered by handfasting. "Oh, Faranth," she laughs, the sound rich with sincere gladness for the Journeyman artist. "Now that'll be a boy or girl who's sure to break a few hearts someday. Congratulations, Erikk, for all of it, and please tell Realilina I said so, too. I'm truly happy for you!" She reaches out to take his hand and give it a squeeze for emphasis before taking another sip of wine. "I imagine you're getting a lot of commissions about now," she notes after a moment. "Would you be willing to take on another? I know I mentioned wanting one once - quite some time ago." One of those things that seems like both forever ago and just yesterday. "I hadn't forgotten; I've just been…busy being a rider," she adds with a lopsided smile.

Erikkhan widens his smile at Kyara's hand squeeze and congratulations. He runs his hand through his hair and sighs heavily, but sounds content. "Thanks Kyara. We're pretty ecstatic about it." He listens along at her request for a commission and nods avidly. "I would love to do a portrait for you. What exactly were you thinking? "

Kyara sits back, looking as though she's weighing several options, a subtle, thoughtful smile curves her lips. "I think," she says finally, that I'd just like a small portrait of Liareth. I think she'd stay still long enough. And there are some pretty spectacular views of the sunset from my ledge, if you'd ever like to come up there and paint her against the colors there." Chuckling, she rubs at her neck a bit. "At some point, I may try to drag my brother up from Southern and ask for a portrait of us, too, but…one of Lia will do nicely for now."

Erikkhan grins. "I think that would be lovely. I'm sure Liareth will appreciate it. I am very willing to come to the two of you for painting. Is your ledge large enough for all of us to be out there?" he asks, concerned that he may not have space for all of his equipment.

"Well, she may not appreciate having to sit still on request, but she will appreciate your work. She has a thing about aesthetic, you see," Kyara explains with a don smirk for her lifemate. "It's just to appreciate what's beautiful, she says. I'm inclined to agree, though I can't always see what she's talking about, sometimes. But yes, my ledge has plenty of room, even for being one of the higher weyrs. It's accommodated the odd blue or brown, even bronze sometimes." She reddens a little, realizing how that could be taken, and quickly adds, "You know, when one of them decides to bring Liareth a gift around certain times of the Turn. But anyway. Just let me know when there's a good evening available for you, and we can bring you up."

Erikkhan smiles. "Liareth sounds like she knows what she likes, and like she has good taste." He chuckles. "How about you let me know when is good for you and I'll rearrange my schedule to fit suit. A rider's time is much more valuable than my own." He leans back in his chair to peek at a half hidden hide on his desk.

"Only valuable in a different sense," Kyara says with a grin as she mentally sifts through her schedule. "What about a seven from now, provided the weather is good? I have drills and a sweep, but only earlier in the day." Finishing off her wine, she shifts forward a bit, setting the empty glass off to the side.

Erikkhan lifts another hide to see the one he is looking at better. "I think that should work perfectly. I am taking a shift at the Harper that morning but I should be available later." He jots down a note on the hide and turns to face Kyara again.

Kyara pushes cautiously to her feet and comes around the desk. "A seven it is, then," she says, giving the tall Harper a hug about the shoulders. "Thank you, Erikk. And thank you for taking the descriptions from the blade merchant. The Weyrsecond should be able to make good use of them." With a step back she angles toward the door. "I'd best get back. The Healers want one more look at me before the day is through, naturally. I'll see you soon."

Erikkhan hugs Kyara back and smiles at her. "Anytime Kyara. I look forward ton painting Liareth. And please, don’t be shy about stopping by just to visit. I’m sure Lina would love that." He stands and follows Kyara to the door. "And get some rest; that looks like quite the gash."

"I will," Kyara assures Erikkhan, giving one last wave of farewell before fastening her jacket against the cool of evening and stepping out of the Crafter complex. If her pace is a bit quicker through the Bazaar than it might normally be, and if her hand hovers a little closer to her belt knife than usual…who could blame her? Still, it isn't long before she's clear of the bustle and off across the Bowl, one last checkup to be had before returning to her weyr for the day.